I have been a mama for all of 39 days so that basically makes me an expert (sarcasm). And if you know me you are well aware of the fact that I never ever have an opinion about anything (sarcasm). You will also be aware that I never am sarcastic (sarcasm). Please tell me you are reading between the lines or rather the parentheses in this case. Also see my disclaimer at the bottom. Now let's get to it. 

Breastfeeding.

I had no clue what I was doing. Was I magically suppose to know how to breastfeed since I had just given birth?! When the nurse asked me if I had tried to nurse Ike yet I just gave her a terrified blank look. Which is probably why she grabbed my boob and Ike's head and smashed them together. Good thing Ike knew what he was doing.

Ike Ross // Birth Story

Ike Ross | 3.26.15 | 6:31pm | 7lbs 7oz | 20 3/4 inches

It's been twenty-eight (amazing and somewhat sleepless) days. Being pregnant seems like a distant memory and Aaron and I seriously cannot imagine life with our little man. Every day rather moment we fall more in love with Ike as the three of us are learning more and more about each other. We've discovered that he loves baths, a certain zebra toy, snuggles, and smiling. I can already say that being a mom is a blast and a huge blessing all at once. I'm a huge fan.

Something you should know about me is that I am a planner. I like to have all the details worked out and I like to be in control. There's nothing wrong with that right?! Unfortunately or rather fortunately depending on how you look at it how I gave birth was out of my control. I have two autonomic disorders that cause an array of random symptoms and a congenital heart defect. This meant my birth plan was extremely simple. Like stupid simple. 

Sh*t This Preggo Has Said

Preggos here is feeling really pregnant as in 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant. And by really pregnant I actually mean really fat, really tired, really cranky, and really really ready to not be pregnant.

Ike's due date is the day after tomorrow. His eviction date is a week from tomorrow (hallelujah the end is near one way or another). And I am beyond ready. Hospital bags are packed. My nails are painted and my legs are shaved (top priorities). I worked on my tan last week. Nursery is done. The house is currently clean. Car seat is installed. Freezer meals are prepped. Baby announcement envelopes are even addressed. It's time to get this whole labor and delivery thing going. Side note I've never been so excited to push something out of me or have something cut out of me in my life. 

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amen GET THIS BABY OUT!!! But since that's not happening at the present moment this preggo mama needs a good laugh... so I give you 

Sh*t This Preggo Has Said 

"we are adopting the rest of our kids" 
may or may not have said this numerous times but in my defense 17 weeks of constant nausea sucks big time.

"it's a good pregnancy day when you only pee yourself three times"

the second you get pregnant buy stock or invest in pads or adult diapers or a foley catheter.

"you know this is your fault"
some days you just need to blame someone aka the husband. this is also very effective when you want the husband to do something.

"I don't think I can get any bigger"
I first said this at 20ish weeks. oh how naive I was.

"yup definitely just peed my pants"
fyi Target really needs a bathroom in the back of their store cause sometimes as in all the time your bladder is full and then your sister says something funny and you laugh and the rest is history.

"I feel like there's a bowling ball trying to come out of me.... and I feel like someone gave the baby knives and he's practicing juggling them" 
pelvic pressure made me hate everything.

"Aaron push me... I'm stuck"
gone are the days of being able to do anything easily. things like rolling over in bed, getting out of bed, standing up, getting out of the car, basically moving etc.

"my boobs are leaking"
nope that's perfectly normal. you're just lactating while pregnant.

"I feel like a crippled, swollen, obese, diabetic hippo" 
welcome to the last month of pregnancy.

"I'm going to YouTube how to strip my own membranes"

desperate times call for desperate threats.

"Will you shoot me with an elephant tranquilizer and wake me up when Ike's here?"

simple request. not sure why no one will grant it.

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Growing a human being is an amazing miracle but it definitely turns you into a pyscho sometimes. It's been real and it's been fun but I'm definitely ready to enter the next adventure of motherhood. And in case I have not been perfectly clear

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little man // nursery reveal

One of my favorite parts of being pregnant has been decorating the little man's nursery. It seriously is my favorite room in the house. In fact I'm hanging out in it right now. anywho here is the big reveal. no thanks to Pinterest for making me think I could do any DIY project and for always adding more and more to the to-do list. At 38 weeks plus a couple days we can finally say the room is ready. Now we just need the little man to make his grand entrance. 

what the *bleep* is dysautonomia | part one

oh I've thought it many many times since being diagnosed with dysautonomia which was over a year ago. after countless doctors appointments, lots of research, and talking with other individuals who have dysautonomia, I (sorta kinda maybe) have a grasp on it. anywho here goes nothing.

Living Not Fighting with Dysautonomia

I stumbled across this amazingly sarcastic and hilarious blog LetsFeelBetter last week and one of her recent blog posts really resonated with me. I would encourage you to check it out if you have a chronic illness or know someone who has one. The blog post is called Five Ways You're Not "Living" with Chronic Illness Here's a little peek of what lead to another ah-ha moment for me.   

4. You’re Not Living with Chronic Illness if You’re “Fighting” It

Chronic Illness is not cancer. You don’t “fight” it. You don’t “beat” it. You don’t make a voodoo doll out of it and start stabbing it with acupuncture needles. In the same way we don’t use the word “cure” to mean “treat’ we can’t use the word “fight” to mean “deal with.” Don’t head-butt your disease, outsmart it.

shopping with Nans

I've always loved shopping. like a lot. probably too much actually. my senior year of high school I went to the mall every single week and I pretty much always came home with at least one bag. in college I went on a shopping fast for an entire summer. of course bills and being an "adult" have helped my shopping compulsion to calm down. but I still love a shopping adventure. 

I also want to introduce you all to a lovely friend. Nans is a bit psychotic and unpredictable and very needy. oh and I can't ever get away from her. Sounds like a great friend right?! yes I am talking about my autonomic disorder. Nans is the short and sweet nickname for my (naughty) autonomic nervous system.